Being Feline
by Scavenge-4-Dreams
Summary: A good deed leads Tony down the rabbit hole- Except there aren't any rabbits, only kittens, cats and god, is he *purring*? **Or the one where Tony tries to rescue a kitten and is blessed by the eternal cat goddess in gratitude. Blessed? More like cursed.


Chapter 1: Anytime

The weak shaft of light just starting to ghost through the uncovered window indicated that morning was swiftly approaching. The cloying darkness of night still determinately held sway though, clawing with tenacious futility against the inevitable break of dawn.

Steve was awake, much as he usually was by this time, enhanced strength and endurance sending blood thrumming through his veins, the enticement of fresh brisk air and the slow burn of muscles enough to pull him from the clutches of sleep. Most mornings, he'd slip silently into sweats and sneakers and out onto the winding paths of the concrete jungle he called home.

Most mornings.

On occasion though, a truly rare occurrence, something would give Steve reason to stay abed; something compelling enough to fight even the strongest pull of his cherished pre-dawn jog.

Only one person could captivate Steve so thoroughly, of course.

 _Mornings like this one_ ; the scarce instances that he woke to find Tony lost in sleep beside him, Steve needed no workout to ease the thrumming of too hot blood. The mere presence of Tony, peaceful serenity replacing his usual hyperactive passion, was balm enough to soothe any amount of unease.

Steve had learned to value these rare mornings very early in their relationship. Learned to treasure the warmth of Tony curled beside him, appreciate the comfort of cold toes and hot huffs of breath against his skin. Learned to cherish the feel of solid presence plastered down his side, because it wasn't going to happen often. And indeed, it did not.

Steve had never met someone who kept such ridiculous hours as his lover. Tony didn't do late nights and early mornings, he simply did _all the time._ Forget burning the candle at both ends, Tony stripped out the wick, and set the whole thing aflame at once. He burned so fast and so, so hot, that Steve was frankly amazed that he hadn't burned out completely.

Amazed that he hadn't, and terrified that he would.

Steve was adamantly determined that he wasn't going to let it happen. He'd resort to throwing Tony over his shoulder and carting him off to their bed like some pre-civilised throwback if he had to.

Not even that could solve the true issue though. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn't make him drink. Steve could get Tony to bed, but he couldn't make him sleep.

So it was with equal parts gratitude and relief that Steve greeted mornings such as this one, where he woke up with Tony still beside him, asleep, recharging the ridiculous number of batteries that _genius_ obviously ran on.

Although, after last night, he wasn't all that surprised to find his lover still asleep this morning.

Steve was putting such immediate over-attachment down to sheer exhaustion. The kitten hadn't really been the point, Tony had just been so completely and utterly shattered that everything had been blown so widely out of proportion that he hadn't been able to get any perspective on the situation.

But god, Tony in tears? It had near broken his heart.

Steve was certain that it was something he never, ever wanted to experience again.

Just thinking about it made him want to reach for Tony, to draw him close. The several foot gap between them was one of the only downsides of such a massive bed, Steve had decided on another morning, much like this one.

A personality and self-awareness as sure as Tony's would surely denote itself to a sprawled sleeping position, arms and legs thrown akimbo, monopolizing the bed. This thinking warmed Steve's heart a little more each night that Tony curled into him instead, almost scrunching himself up under Steve's arm.

Right now though, Tony was on his stomach, one arm tucked in close to his chest, the slight angle supporting the discomforting weight of the arc-reactor, hand balled into a loose fist beneath the relaxed jaw.

Dark tousled hair was tangled into a wild mess, several locks ghosting about a delicate shell ear, and over pale skin. Equally dark eyelashes fluttered almost invisibly in the shadowed curve beneath closed eyes.

Bowed pink lips were parted slightly to allow shallow puffs of air to escape, and the tip of that scathingly wicked tongue darted out to leave a moist glint every few moments.

With an affectionately wry smile, reassured that Tony was fine, Steve turned to wondering how someone with a speck of dried drool glistening at the corner of his mouth, hair going every which way and blanket creases across one cheek could be so completely enthralling.

Propping himself up on one elbow, the Captain reached for the closest ridiculously plump eiderdown pillow, which he noted that Tony had characteristically abandoned in favour of his own crossed arms. Wedging the luxurious pillow into the triangle of his own arm, to support his neck, the blond once again shook his head at the unnecessary extravagance of the bedding. He did notice, though, that the swathes of decadent ivory silk tangled about his lower body felt almost as gorgeous against his own skin as they looked clinging to the naked curves of Tony's hips and flank.

His fingers slid down the butter soft edge of the sheet, rubbing the gentle weave between them, delighting in the exorbitant suppleness and smooth glide. Steve's gaze raked over his sleeping lover, and with an _almost_ innocent tug, the sheet slipped gracefully from Tony's up-turned hip, and pooled to the mattress below.

The angled curve of hollowed hipbone, and smooth expanse of skin that rose into pale swell just hinted beneath low sitting waistband of too large sweats, was luminescent in the cloying shadow, perfecting the already faultless picture.

Steve's fingers itched for his sketch book. Lines and smudged shading in charcoal grey, with only the tiniest hint of shine to the silk sheet, paling in comparison to the smoothly shadowed back and shoulders, alit by sunrise embattled moonlight from the half-uncovered window.

Drawing though, even to immortalise this stunning vision, would involve looking down, looking away, and losing precious moments of this rare opportunity, and thus Steve stayed, and just stared.

Slowly, but surely, as inevitable as the sun rising, light slowly flooded into the room, the windows having been uncharacteristically left uncovered in the disquiet of the evening before. The glow crept across the room in a steady line, encroaching on the carpet, the leg of the drawer, the foot of the bed, and finally trespassing across the delicate wash of shadow-perfect skin.

Steve couldn't find it in himself to be too upset at the loss though, because, for every inch of creamy porcelain that disappeared into the spreading light, an inch of golden warmth was left behind.

The dusky pristine glow of moonlit silk disappeared as sunlight lit a thousand tiny glimmers over ivory shine, and the image in Steve's mind lost its title of 'Vision in Moonlight' and became simply 'Sun-kissed'.

The sunlight reached Tony's shoulders, crept up and for a moment, Steve was engulfed by the glistening richness of copper red, bronze and caramel gold, before it subdued into the dark chestnut of Tony's sunlit tangles.

The light spread across the upturned side of Tony's face, and Steve smiled as his lover twitched slightly, and scrunched his nose up in aversion to the reluctant wakefulness.

"Watchin' me sleep 'gain, Steve. Talked 'bout this. " Tony mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes as he flipped over onto his back, and closer to Steve in one move, stretching languidly in the slowly gathering warmth of the sunbeam.

Unable to resist the tempting stretch of skin, Steve ran his palm down Tony's side, huffing a laugh when Tony arched into his touch with a soft breathy sigh. Steve shrugged, answering, "We have." non-committedly, waiting as Tony puzzled out the situation, delighting in how long it took the other man to get his considerable number of cylinders firing.

Tony finally settled on the most important aspect of Steve's fascination, asking "Why?"

"You're cute when you sleep", was Steve's reply. It was true, although not strictly the entire truth. Steve didn't think that half-asleep Tony would truly appreciate the effort Steve would have to go to, if he wanted to do justice to the vision he'd been gifted with.

" _Cute?_ I'm cute? I mean, I _am_ cute. Not _cute_ – ah...manly, and han'some and devastatingly- devastatingly… I am _not_ cute, Ste-"

Steve leant down and swallowed his lover's futile protests, because there was nothing Tony could say that would change Steve's mind. Tony might be all those other things, and a great many more besides, but he _was_ cute, especially when half awake and babbling.

The gentle kiss did what the sunlight hadn't managed, and Steve felt Tony wake fully in his arms, pressing up into the bracketing curve of his arms. Fingers tangled in Steve's hair, Tony's tongue baited Steve's into plundering the inviting warmth.

Slightly breathless from the best type of rush, Steve pulled back, gazing down with an embarrassing level of dopiness as he whispered, "Hi."

Tony blinked up at him slowly, fingertips batting gently at the hanging locks of Steve's fringe. His eyes brightened roguishly, and his mischievous grin chased away the sweet curve of his lips, as he replied, "Um – morning breath."

The moment broken, Steve cracked his own grin, huffing a laugh as he asked, "Me or you, shellhead?"

"Can't be sure…only one thing for it", Tony spoke as he tugged, and Steve allowed himself to be pulled back down.

Despite thorough investigation, the results proved inconclusive; all thoughts of morning breath having flown from both their minds at the first press of lips, never to return.

Strangely enough, neither Steve nor Tony seemed excessively distressed by the oversight.

* * *

Wrapped up in each other, aware of only glancing touches and the press of warm, gentle lips, they came to exist in an almost limbo, time passing unnoticed or perhaps not passing at all. There was no frantic need to touch, no drive to rush beyond simple caresses. Passionate, surely, but a slow gentle passion, not pushing to be ignited into a burning hunger.

Like most things though, it couldn't last forever.

At least, this time it wasn't the blaring of the assemble alarm or Clint dropping from the vent above their bed babbling about possessed coffee machines. Both those situations had happened in the past. More than once.

Raising sleepily hooded eyes from where they'd been tracking his fingers' path across the cotton covered furrows of Steve's ribs, Tony raised an eyebrow, "What was- was that your _stomach_?" he asked as he poked the offending area.

Steve shrugged, catching Tony's wandering hand beneath his own, a slight hint of red gracing his cheeks as he nodded bashfully, "Yeah – guess its breakfast time."

Propping himself up against Steve's waist, Tony flopped forward, yanking up his lovers t-shirt to press his ear to bare skin, exclaiming, "Hungry! You're hungry?! How can you be hungry? It sounds like you've already eaten…possibly a bear!"

Rolling his eyes as his stomach gave another gurgling growl, which, in Tony's defence, was rather bear like, Steve answered, "Super soldier – super metabolism, remember? We didn't exactly have dinner last night."

A second later, he wished he hadn't said anything.

Tony's hand stilled beneath his, going lax in his confining grip as the genius pushed himself upright slightly using Steve's strength as leverage. His smile and good humour visibly drained away as memory of the evening before swept back.

"-The kitten. God – I can't believe I was- Just- I can't… let go. Let me go, Steve-", he demanded, trying to pull away, to retreat into himself as he always did when confronted with what he saw as his own weaknesses.

Steve wasn't in the habit of letting him, and wasn't about to start now, "Hey. Hey! Stop it. We already discussed this, last night – remember. You did a good thing that ended badly"

Tony stilled, thinking, remembering, calming slightly as Steve's reassurance of the night before swept through him. A good thing. Still – he'd been a complete idiot. He'd had a meltdown. Over a dead cat. "Still- I was a complete idiot. I had a meltdown. Over a dead cat."

Shaking his head, Steve dragged Tony closer, uncaring whether his lover was actively resisting or just typically reluctant to discuss _feelings._ Firmly, he said, "You weren't being an idiot. Everyone's allowed to get a little overwhelmed now and then. Allowed to have a brief 'meltdown'…you being absolutely exhausted probably didn't help matters though. Shhh–Don't you try to tell me you weren't tired. I know you were. Know how I know? You're _always_ exhausted."

"I'm no-" Tony started, but didn't get far before Steve cut him off with a snort.

"Yes, you are. You don't sleep nearl-" The captain argued, inwardly cheering when the argument sparked defiance and mischief in previously shamed brown eyes.

Trying again, Tony added, "Not always – I'm n-"

"Fine. Tell me the last time you slept a full night through." Steve pressed, grinning as Tony fell silent, his mouth opening and closing as he thought.

Steve was sure he had won their little verbal scuffle, sure that his point was made, but Tony, being, well, _Tony, c_ ame through with a last minute save, answering with a completely straight face, "Last night."

Steve supposed he'd walked right into that one, and with a groan, he yanked Tony down into a kiss.

Which his growling stomach once again interrupted.

"You- I was the one being an _idiot_ , why didn't you go eat something!?" Tony groaned as he pulled back, although this time there was a certain air of playfulness to his voice.

Carding his fingers into thick brown hair, Steve answered, "Well, I guess you really must be an idiot if you thought I was going to leave you while you were upset, to go _eat._ "

Leaning into Steve's hand, nuzzling his cheek against warm skin, Tony smiled as he answered, "Fine, take your idiot to breakfast. Before the bear escapes."

* * *

Ignoring the steadily repeating _beep_ that was informing him the door was open, Steve gazed up at his obstinate lover.

"I'm just not buying what you're selling. Coffee alone is not adequate sustenance for _anyone_. I've read the 'Beginners Guide to Handling Your Genius' operational manual, several times, and it states quite explicitly that allowing any unit of the upper genius calibre to operate purely on caffeine alone welcomes disaster and chaos the likes of which you don't walk away from unscathed", Steve rattled off as he leaned against the gaping fridge door.

Tony looked away from the percolating coffee machine with a raised eyebrow, a betrayed howl escaping him as he answered, "You have the guide!? Who gave you- Pepper? Pepper. That traitorous, treacherous-!"

"What. Do. You. Want. For. Breakfast?" Steve grit out between clenched teeth, not truly angry, but wavering on the cusp of exasperation as Tony once again deflected away from the same discussion they'd been having for the past fifteen minutes.

Reaching for his mug, with its red and gold embossed Ironman helmet, Tony answered, "It's only a guide Steve. Guidelines, _advice_ … coffee is a perfectly acceptable breakfast food, the guide doesn't take into consideration the taxing effort of firing up the stupidly ridiculous number of neurons we genius's wrangle with every morning. Nothing has quite the same kick as-"

"Anything that mentions disaster and chaos in direct correlation to you, is never going to be ignored by me. Coffee does not contain calories, protein or fibre. It dehydrates, you end up dropping from the sugar rush by mid-" Steve challenged, standing up from his stoop by the fridge.

Cutting Steve's rant off mid world, Tony interjected with a sulky, "Fine. 'Mr. My body is a temple'. Nutrition and sustenance, got it. Whatever you want is fine."

Steve shut his mouth, eyeing Tony carefully, taking in the open body language as Tony turned towards him, the tiny creases at the corner of his eyes and barely there upward tilt of lips.

Huh.

Tony was pleased that Steve was pressing him to take better care of himself.

"I choose breakfast, and you'll eat whatever I make?" Steve questioned, just to be sure, knowing what Tony was like with loopholes.

Tony grinned at the implied suspicion, but nodded, agreeing. Then thinking better of it, he added, "With coffee."

Steve nodded, because the coffee was already a given.

Settling on something relatively quick and easy, Steve grabbed the bacon and eggs from the fridge, and turned to the stove, reaching for a frypan. Soon, strips of bacon were sizzling in a small pool of oil, with eggs slowly whitening to the side, Steve prodding at the frypan occasionally with his spatula.

The arms that slipped around his waist from behind were very welcome, although not much of a surprise.

"Mmm, god, that smells so good. _Bacon._ Mmm." Tony murmured as he pressed his lips to warm cotton, standing taller so his chin hooked over Steve's shoulder, sniffing at heavenly scents rising from the frypan.

"Hungry, now?" Steve teased, flipping a strip of bacon, adding when the pan sizzled and spit, "You should move away though – your arms are going to get oil burnt."

He felt the body pressed up behind him shrug, and the arms about his middle tighten as Tony replied, "Meh – worth it."

Dropping the spatula, Steve spun, backed Tony up against the far counter, and lifted him onto the bench top. Pressing in close, he wrapped his own arms around Tony's shoulders and dragged him into a kiss, smiling as he felt the soft rumble of laughter against his lips.

Valiantly failing at not leaning into the teeth that were nibbling a trail across his jaw, Tony managed to whisper breathily, "Your bacon's going to burn"

His tongue trailing over heated skin, Steve mouthed "Worth it" and turned his full attention back to his new task.

"Do I smell baco- whoa! Ever heard of getting a room?" Clint's voice echoed from just outside the door, drawing closer until he entered the room and subsequently came across the spectacle that was Captain America sucking a no-doubt splendid hickey at the junction of Ironman's collarbone.

Steve pulled back, ready to turn an apology on the interfering archer, when Tony's hands clenching in the material of his t-shirt and yanked him back in. Mentally shrugging, Steve went with it, kissing Tony with abandon, choosing not to be bothered by the spluttering Hawkeye.

Slightly breathless, Tony pulled away, turning a roguish grin on the archer as he answered, "I do have a room. To be more accurate, I have a whole tower. Breakfast? "

Clint looked torn, between mocking Steve and Tony's penchant for kitchen make out sessions, or possibly getting some of that bacon.

The bacon and eggs won out. Barely.

Steve dished out three plates, putting what was a ridiculous amount of leftovers in the oven to keep warm for the rest of their intrepid Avengers, as they woke and ventured forth.

"Oh my god. This is just- What is this? Bacon doesn't taste like this. _Nothing_ tastes like this. More – I'll just… " Tony slid from his chair and helped himself to a second serve from the oven.

Steve just laughed, glad that Tony was eating something solid, and with minimal fuss and persuasion. Turning to Clint, who was eyeing Tony with disbelieving eyes, and hunching protectively over his own breakfast, Steve asked, "So, where did you bury Nick Fury?"

The archer spluttered, looking at Steve with wide eyes as he coughed lightly, and finally managed to ask, "Wh- What!?"

Tony, who'd cottoned on immediately, almost made himself sick laughing.

* * *

"So yeah, by the time we made it to the empty lot, there was quite the funeral procession. Thor did the honours, and Bruce said a few words. Apparently Hulk likes kittens. Nat stood vigil." Clint explained, watching with unabashed pleasure as Tony's eyes softened as he described the care taken with the burial of the little kitten. "And Nick Fury rests at peace in that vacant lot off Peacad Avenue", the archer finished with a grin.

Grinning, Tony gulped down his second cup of coffee as he answered, "I so cannot wait for the first time some baby S.H.I.E.L.D Agent overhears one of us say that."

Laughing, Clint got to his feet, packed his plate into the dishwasher and moved to leave the room, throwing over his shoulder, "I'm going to go tell the others about the rare demonstration they can see in the kitchen if they hurry…"

"What!? We're not even doing anything!" Steve lamented, reaching for Tony's empty plate, ignoring the way his lover hugged his mostly empty mug to himself.

"I meant Tony Stark, wide awake and properly fed before 7am…but I guess it's only a matter of time before the other is also true." The archer replied, slipping out the door to avoid any nasty airborne surprises. Like the mug in Tony's hand.

"Hey! Clint? Thanks." Tony called, just after Clint disappeared through the door.

The echoing shout of "Anytime", floated back into the room.

Tony turned to where Steve was running water into the sink, and yeah –he'd retrieved Clint's dishes from the dishwasher, and added them to his small pile. The man was simply beyond help.

"Oh, shut it." Steve bit out with a slightly bashful look, but didn't stop in his self-appointed task.

Shrugging innocently, Tony answered, "What? I didn't say anything. You do realise we have a dishwasher, right?"

The snap of a drying cloth followed him out the door.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, as he changed to head to the gym, Steve cell phone dinged its _incomin_ g _text_ tone.

 **Tony:**

 _Going to that meeting I said I wasn't going to, because Pepper is on the warpath. Apparently calling her a traitor wasn't smart._

 **Steve:**

 _I'll see you tonight then. What do you want for dinner?_

 **Tony:**

 _Coffee?_

 **Steve:**

 _Tony._

 **Tony:**

 _One word sentences. God, you really have read the 'guide'._

 **Steve:**

 _Dinner?_

 **Tony:**

 _Bacon._

 **Steve:**

 _: I_

 **Tony:**

 _Who taught you that? Bet they didn't teach you this one._

 **Steve:**

 _Tony?_

 **Tony:**

 _B===D B===D ~~~_

 **Steve:**

 _That is a travesty to all art, everywhere._

 **Tony:**

 _True._

 **Steve:**

 _Besides, mines bigger._

 **Tony:**

 _Also true. :D_

 **Steve:**

 _It was Rhodey._

 **Tony:**

 _What was- Rhodey gave you the guide! That- He-!_

 **Steve:**

 _I went straight to the source. After all, he wrote it._

 **Tony:**

 _I can't even- My sugarbear. Oh- such betrayal._

 **Steve:**

 _It truly has proven to be an invaluable asset. Add my thanks to whatever horrible message you're about to send him._

 **Tony:**

 _Chicken for dinner. Rhodey says you're welcome._

 **Steve:**

 _Chicken it is. Be good._

 **Tony:**

 _You didn't just-_

 **Tony:**

 _You did._

 **Steve:**

 _I did._

 **Tony:**

 _You did._

 **Steve:**

 _Also, don't look in any boxes. And don't walk home in the snow._

 **Tony:**

 _Sassy Captain America! Where is my Sweetheart Steve?_

 **Steve:**

 _Fine. Love you._

 **Tony:**

 _Better._

 **Steve:**

 _Tony. I love you._

 **Tony:**

 _Oh! Right. Love you too._

 **Steve:**

 _Not impressed._

 **Tony:**

 _You love me anyway ;)_

 **Steve:**

 _That I do._

 **Tony:**

 _And I you._

 **Steve:**

 _Cute._

 **Tony.**

 _Thankyou for last night._

 **Tony:**

 _And this morning._

 **Tony:**

 _And all the time._

 **Steve:**

 _Anytime._

* * *

Tony was very sure that someone, somewhere, quite probably in the basement office of some backwater government department, had committed a grievous oversight.

There should be a list. There _needed_ to be a list.

They should teach this list as requisite training.

Hell, they should teach this list in elementary school.

A list that should be circulated to all governmental agencies and departments, including shady non-departments like S.H.I.E.L.D and most specifically, members of the Avengers Initiative.

A list entitled- _'People who should never, ever, on pain of death and world domination, be left to float in the dreary haze of dreariness.'_

And at the top of that list should be one name- 'Tony Stark'.

Possibly also containing an addendum, specifically applicable to the self-titled genius, billionaire playboy philanthropist. - _'Inflict with uninhibited stupidity under no circumstances, lest world implosion occur'._

Mentally drafting an outline of said list, with all its associated provisos, Tony twiddled his thumbs and sighed with exaggerated impatience. Not that it was all that exaggerated-it was more attributed to the fact that exaggeration was one of Tony's prerogatives in life.

Bored. _So bored._

Actually, no- Fury's briefings were boring (with the added pleasure of rarely ending with a gold star bedside his name)… but this? _This_ was pure _monotony._

Watching paint dry would be twice as exciting and probably halve his urge to hang himself from the overhead lighting fixture- if only to save what few brain cells he somehow still retained.

Upon walking into the boardroom, ( _been shoved into the boardroom by the weight of Peppers vindictive eyes_ ), he'd immediately remembered with disturbing clarity, exactly _why_ this was one of the numerous meetings he simply refused to attend.

Genius classification required an at least above average quantity of brain cells, and Tony was sure the last two hours had killed more of his, than most of this lot possessed as a whole.

Never, ever calling Pepper a traitor again. _Never._

Instead of sitting here twiddling his thumbs (quite literally), Tony could be doing genius things; to the armour, or Clint's new quiver or finishing the much requested, 'Thor proof' Wii remote...

Pepper had even confiscated his tablet and his phone... even the who-knows-how-old napkin that had been in his pocket since the cold war.

 _So, so bored._

This had to be some new form of cruel and unusual punishment. Kudos to Pepper, except Tony wasn't feeling charitable.

He could be doing something with Steve. To Steve. Hell, he could be doing Steve.

Or even better _, Steve could be doing him._

Judging by the completely tasteless gaze he was receiving from the far side of the table and three suits down, Tony figured he should stop thinking about _Steve_ and _doing_ in the same sentence. The lust in the unfamiliar man's oddly sinister eyes, was enough to make the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

That intent fiery heat looked much better in Steve's pretty blue eyes. And to be honest, that was the only place Tony wanted to see it.

Perhaps he should just stop thinking about Steve altogether, because the suit was about to start drooling on the mahogany table. On the positive side; Steve would be slightly mortified to hear, but pleased to know, that the mere thought of him caused Tony to radiate lust.

Still, if Tony couldn't take the edge off by thinking about Steve, he was certainly doomed to a slow and painful death as he listened to- actually, he had no idea what he was listening to.

The woman across from him shifted in her seat slightly, and Tony's gaze zeroed in on the light reflection from her watch, as it skittered across the table, stopping an inch away.

Lazily tracking the small circle of light as it glittered and flashed, Tony resisted the urge to-

 ** _SMACK!_**

The room was suddenly engulfed in silence and Tony looked up slowly, taking in the incredulous eyes riveted on his hand, where it had smashed down on the table in front of him.

He scrambled for a response, an excuse…and then his mind caught up to his mouth and he shrugged. After all, Tony Stark was expected to have a few idiosyncrasies.

He supposed that would also sufficiently explain why he had a light reflection 'trapped' beneath the palm of his hand.

 _God. He was so, so bored._

At this stage, he'd accept just about _any_ alternative to this god-awful budget meeting.

Quite naturally, that was when his phone (conveniently placed inside his briefcase, which Pepper had known he'd never actually open of his own accord) started blaring the 'Avengers Assemble' alarm.

Tony leapt to his feet, exclaiming, "Been fun, gotta run!", and escaped the room.

* * *

Chapter 2:

DEBRIEF

Avenger Initiative: Amendment #411

 _Additions from May 21_ _st_ _2014._

Avng. Vs. Roboblast.

 ** _Roboblast (Suspected Hammer tech.)_**

 **Class: Mech/tech**

 **Category: Robot**

 **Grade: 4. (Upgraded from 3 to 9 after revelation of stolen repulsor style tech.**

 **Downgraded from 9 to 4 after repulsor tech proved to be subpar.)**

 **Weapons: Machine gun. Machine Gun(s), Flamethrower, Chain blades, Grenade**

 **Launcher. Repulsor tech. Blunt Force.**

 **Responding:**

· Hawkeye

· Captain America

· Black Widow

· Thor

· Ironman

* * *

 _11:12am – Social Media sites report conflicting initial accounts of 'shiny, metallic creature' and 'Great huge thing' rampaging in Lower Manhattan._

 _11:20am - Hawkeye first on scene. (Unexpectedly swift arrival explainable only by Barton being a Twitter whore)._

 _11:24am - Hawkeye reports first credible description – "Another fucking Robot. Big dumb brute – plenty of fire power, but limited cognitive function. Suggest power trio- minus big green"_

 _11-25am – Captain A on scene. Assumes field command._

 ** _Action Recording transposition - #1_**

 _CA_ _ **:**_ _SitRep, Hawkeye?_

 _HE_ _ **:**_ _A Bigass Robot._

 _CA: Really?_

 _HE: Oooh, deadpan. Stark is rubbing off on you – must have been this morning in the k-_

 _CA: Hawkeye._

 _HE: Sorry Cap. Big, but not particularly threatening. He's got a bit of firepower, but there's_

 _no higher reasoning behind this one – seems to be targeting at random. If it moves, he_

 _shoots._

 _CA: What's it shooting at now?_

 _HE: I may have thrown a broken fire hydrant at it. Now it won't stop shooting the damn thing around like a pool ball. Like I said- dumb._

 _CA: Good job, although perhaps not in Downtown Manhattan. – Step 1: get it away from the_

 _buildings – lets at least try to limit structural damage this time. Thor is incoming- eta 4_

 _minutes._

 _HE: We shouldn't need Iron, Widow or Hulk. I don't think._

 _BW: I'm already here._

 _HE: Of course you are – Here I am, planning a boys day out, and you-_

 _BW: You really don't want to finish that sentence._

 _HE: I really don't want to finish that sentence._

 _CA: You really don't want to finish that sentence. Reinforcements are always welcome_

 _Widow, even if not necessary._

 _HE: Suck up._

 _BW: No Ironman? It_ _ **is**_ _a robot._

 _CA: He's on punishment duty._

 _HE: Huh! What did the idiot do this time?_

 _BW: He called Pepper a traitor. To her face. The fallout was most amusing. He's in a budget_

 _meeting._

 _HE: Oh, that poor, stupid bastard_

 _CA: Okay, cut the chatter, Thor is almost here –let's do this. Hawk, try to get its attention._

 _HE: Get its attention?- How do I … Hey! HEY! Yeah, you- Mr Great Huge Thing…time to tangle!_

 _CA: Mr Great Hu- That's just terrible._

 _BW: Are you an archer or not!? Shoot it!_

 _HE: Okay, okay! Take that!... Well that was effective. Not._

 _WA: It seems quite partial to that hydrant. Whose brilliant idea was that?_

 _HE: Don't look at me- that one was all Ca-_

 _THOR: A GREAT HUGE THING! – COME MONSTER, AND MEET YOUR MOST_

 _DESERVED DOOM AGAINST THE MIGHT OF MJÖLNIR!_

 ** _End Recoding transposition #1_**

 _11:30am- Thor arrives on Scene. Battle in earnest commences._

 _* Black Widow's precise arrival time unknown._

 _11:30am – Robot responds to attacks with intermittent flamethrower jets._

 _11:31am- Thor attacks with Mjölnir._

 _11:31am- Robot responds with Grenade Launcher._

 _11:32am- Avengers still failing to consistently draw Robot's attention from previously mentioned hydrant._

 _11:38am – Robot surprisingly indestructible – somehow withstanding the combined efforts of the gathered Avengers, although consideration must be taken – as level of applied force is low to compensate for the danger to nearby building structures._

 _~Robot is proving to be resistant to minimal force efforts. Concern is minor, due to robots relatively passive behaviour so far – Still obsessively focussed on destroying battered remains of the fire hydrant.~_

 _11:40am- Avengers pull back, regroup and attack from four directions, simultaneously._

 _11:41am – Robot fires repulsor blast in four directions simultaneously._

 ** _Action Recording transposition - #2_**

 _CA: DOWN!_

 _HE: What the FUCK was that?!_

 _THOR: THE MIGHTY HUGE THING HAS CONCEALED PERILS! COME AT ME BEAST!_

 _BW: Repulsor tech. Stolen repulsor tech. We need Ironman._

 _CA:…Incoming – ETA 3 minutes._

 _HE: He'll just be glad to be out of that meeting._

 _CA: Ironman, are you reading me yet?_

 _IM: Loud and Clear, cap. What have we got!?_

 _HA: A Giant, tech stealing, shiny-ass huge thing!_

 _IM: Another fucking robot with my repulsor tech? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ _ **fuck it.**_

 _CA: If it makes you feel better – it's a woeful opponent._

 _IM: Not really, but thanks anyway babe._

 _HE: Gag. Gag._

 _IM: Oh fuck you to Hawk- I'll bet you were the idiot who corralled the giant fucking robot_

 _downtown._

 _HE: And I'll bet you were the idiot who called Pepper Potts a traitor._

 _IM:...Cap!_

 _CA: Don't look at me, I didn't tell him!_

 _IM: I'll get to the bottom of this. Mark my words. Cesspool of lies and deceit. O- okay, I'm coming in from the east…_

 _CA: Bank that last building and you'll see him, clear as day. He's pretty docile…_

 _IM: Steals my fucking tech, and then doesn't even have the decency to a least be nominally badass...Docile! DOC- Jesus Fu-_

 _CA: Tony! Shit, UP, UP! Go left-_

 _IM: I thought you said he was fucking do- DOCILE!_

 _HE: I'll lay some covering fire! Bank the building on your left and get him off your ass!_

 _IM: SHOOT IT. Fucking Shoot It!_

 _CA: Thor – Grab the other leg-_

 _THOR- I shall do so. This monster is a jackal in disguise- full of TRICKERY AND DECIET! SUCH BEHAVIORS WILL NOT SAVE YOU METAL BEAST!_

 _IM: Okay- I'm out of its line of sight. What the hell was that?!_

 _CA: I don't know! – It's been focused on the damn hydrant since I got here-_

 _BW: Red. The hydrant is red! The armour!_

 _CA: Thor and I have red as well-_

 _IM: Red Metal._

 _CA: Okay. Yeah, okay…Ironman retreat.. Thor…Fry it._

 _IM: No! Noo…I can't go back to a miserly death by boredom…please…_

 _CA: I really- Oh fine, just- Stay out of that things sight._

 _IM: Thankyou, thank you, thankyou…I'll thank you properly later._

 _CA: AFTER you apologise to Pepper, you can thank me as much as you like._

 _THOR: THUNDER FOR ASGUARD!_

 ** _End Recoding transposition #2_**

 _11:46am- Ironman arrives on scene, is promptly targeted by Robot and is forced into evasive movements._

 _11:48am- Thor electrocutes Robot._

 _11:48am- Robot fires consistent repulsor beam._

 _11:49am- Ironman intercepts repulsor beam and initial target- Black Widow._

 _11:49am – Ironman blasted into nearby building, through wall and onto far street._

 _11:50am- Captain America and Thor decapitate Robot with nearby power line._

 _11:51am – Ironman answers demands for response – "I'm okay- I'm fine… rattled my skull a little, possible concussion…but we're all good here."_

 _11:52am: Captain America gets his hands on Ironman- - (Censored)_

 _11:53am: Captain America reprimands Ironman- "I told you to - (Censored)_

 _11:55am: Fury calls for immediate debrief. Heightened importance due to stolen tech and odd nature of creature._

* * *

 ** _Specifics_**

 _Team Injuries:_

· Hawkeye : _2_ _nd_ _degree burn, mild- left bicep_

· Captain America : _NIL_

· Ironman : _Unknown at time of report_

· Thor : _NIL_

· Black Widow : _NIL_

Civilian Injuries-

 _Nil beyond initial scrapes and bruises of panic_

Location Damage-

- _Moderate structural_

 _-Extensive Superficial_

Additional –

 _Ironman unable to release from suit at time of Debrief and subsequent report, due to exterior damage. Captain America removed faceplate forcefully – à la Chitauri aftermath._

 ** _Rules to Survive Being An Avenger_**

 ** _Amendments and additions – Avng. VS Roboblast_**

 _#390_ __ **'** **If it shoots? Shoot back.'**

(If it doesn't shoot? Shoot first.)

(Unless shooting first is likely to cause an explosion that will level three blocks, Tony.)

 _-(You're an archer Clint! Shoot it!)_

 _#411_ __ **'** **The bigger the enemy, the harder it falls.'**

(Think _wide open spaces_.)

(That does not include Time Square)

 _-(We don't coral the 75ft robot downtown, Clint.)_

 _#3_ **'** **Clint doesn't get to name things'**

(That Includes inanimate objects)

(Also includes innocent bystanders – most of them already have names)

(DOES NOT INCLUDE YOUR DEAGED/TRANSHORMED/DESIZED TEAM MATES)

\- _(The Great Huge Thing. Really?)_

 _#742 - New addition._

 **Most creative kills**

- _(Decapitation by electrical wire)_

 ** _See file RTSBAA for full list._**

* * *

"If no one has anything else they'd like to add…", Fury asked, waiting a heartbeat. When no one moved to speak, he snapped the debrief folder closed and slapped it down on the three inch pile of paperwork to his left.

Leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers, he favoured his gathered team with a steady look. Raking his gaze over Stark and Rogers to his right, he subconsciously noticing how close the two were sitting, but consciously ignored the subconscious signals: because right now, he just couldn't deal with the knowledge that Stark was despoiling an apparently very willing Captain America.

Thankfully Stark was still in the armour, so that didn't leave them a lot of hands on options.

Speaking of the armour, Nick had to admit, the red and gold alloy had definitely seen better days, showing under-metal beneath severe scrapes and gauges, with a significant dent to the right side of the helmet. Banner and Rogers had hovered over the billionaire for a good ten minutes, but upon his assurance (and Banners) that there was no serious damage beneath the gold-titanium armour, they'd made allowance for the serious nature of the stolen tech, and decided to debrief before heading to the Mech support at the tower to de-armour.

Naturally, there 'all for one and one for all' mentality, had seen the others also refuse to de-superhero, all choosing to remain decked out in their leather and capes as well.

Barton's upper arm was slathered with burn salve, but they'd gotten off remarkably lightly during this battle, something else for which Fury was unwilling to look too deeply into his gratitude and relief.

"Good fight." was as close as he was willing to come to obvious pride, and so he waded into the crucial issue, asking, "How does every second two-bit villain we go up against keep getting their hands on _your_ tech, Stark?"

Fury bit back a sigh, regretting his choice of words, as Tony immediately bristled and fired back, "Firstly, it's not _my_ tech. My tech is still in my suit and in my tower, where it belongs… these are all crappy subpar knockoffs. Secondly- how the fuck should I know… _all my tech is in the suit or at the tower._ "

Before Fury could respond, possibly igniting the situation further, Banner stepped in, "You're right, Tony, they don't have your tech. They have a fragment or a scrap of a broken repulsor, a picture or a piece of a blue print… _However they are doing it_ , whoever's trying to recreate your tech, doesn't have a clue. Every time we've gone up against repulsor tech in the past three months, they've all been deficient models. And that just makes them more dangerous. _You_ know what you're doing with the tech, and these imbeciles obviously don't. Sooner or later one of them is going to go too far in the other direction and blow the whole city up. We need to stop them."

Tony wasn't exactly calm, but his manic energy was now channelling confusion and incomprehension, instead of anger, as he answered, "That's just it, I've _never_ lost a piece of the repulsor tech, _never_ left a fragment at a battle scene. I've rechecked every suit, and every one of our battles. I _do_ know the dangers of this technology, and I'm never going to let anyone take it from me again! No one has access the blue prints, beyond myself and JARVIS. I don't keep hard copies anywhere."

Clint carried the conversation, "Say what you want about Ironass's tech, but it's never anything less than awesome, I mean…If the stolen tech is so crap, are we sure it's even stolen? Could it be someone else's 'less than awesome attempt?"

Bruce answered, "No, someone is definitely getting their 'inspiration' from Tony's repulsors…we've looked over the samples we've been able to, from that battle last week, and the blasters from that exo-skeletal system last month…some elements are literal replicas. Someone might be able to come up with a repulsor style tech, but not with the _exact_ same method of engineering that Tony's are infused with."

"Whether or not they have a base model that belongs to Tony, the fact remains that someone, somewhere is building repulsor tech, and we need to track them down and stop them… Frankly, after today, I'm a little more concerned about the fact that that robot seemed programmed to target and kill _Tony, specifically._ " Steve injected.

Tony's muttered, "Badly programed" was drowned out by Natasha's sudden realization.

Her eyes calculating, Natasha explained, "Whether actually stolen, the technology is specifically designed to emulate Tony's. Each villain containing the stolen tech over the past three months has been some variation of metal-exteriored mechanical technology, most prominently robots. Tony has been involved in an increasing number of minor injuries and near misses over the past few months. And today he was definitely the target. I think we need to assume that someone is trying to kill Tony."

Silence reined for an instant and then several voices spoke at once.

"Actually, that 'droid, the week before last did seem to focus an awful lot of its attention on Tony, before I crushed it", Bruce mused.

Clint offered his support, the only way he knew how, adding, "This is shaping up an awful lot like someone with an axe to grind- Say Ironass, you wouldn't happen to have any enemy's would you?"

"That's a ridiculous inference! Just because I was the same colour as the fucking hydrant doesn't mean I was specifica-" Tony exploded, leaping to his feet.

"The hydrant was the same colour as you", was Steve's quiet injection, adding when Tony turned to look at him, "That thing attacked you as soon as it laid eyes on you- if it was just the colour, it already had the hydrant. You were the target. "

Tony stared wordlessly at him before slumping back into his seat with a defeated huff, replying, "Fine. Someone wants to kill me. How original."

Deciding that Stark and Rogers could take the brewing quarrel about the worth of Stark's life home with them, Fury interrupted, "You need a protection detail."

Turning to stare at Fury, Tony raised an eyebrow, snorting with disbelief, "I'm sorry- _what?_! Have you seen what I'm wearing?"

Not rising to the bait, Nick simply answered, "Have you seen _the state_ of what you're wearing? You're powerful, not infallible. You need a detail."

"Have you seen who he lives with? He has a detail." Clint added, at the same time Thor finally spoke.

"It seems that if any are to safeguard the precious life of the man of Iron, it should be his battle-kin, for not only do we know his weaknesses, we also know his strengths."

Fury just nodded. After all, what agents did he have that could compete with his top two assassins, a genetically engineered super-soldier, an overprotective rage monster and the literal God of Thunder?

"Very well, he's under your protection. Shut up Stark- If you want to escape the mother hens from hell, find whoever is trying to kill you and end them. Although it might also help if you'd stop getting your shiny metal ass blasted through walls. This is what- the fourth time this month?"

Tony scowled, leaning forward, but before he could open his mouth, someone else jumped to his defence.

"I 100% agree with you Sir, the wall thing needs to stop…but admittedly, in this instance it was a less stupidly self-sacrificing move than usual. Natasha was in the cross hairs- Tony intercepted." Steve explained, shooting Tony a mostly indeterminable look, although mixed pride, anger and exasperation were visible.

Fury shook his head with a sour look, like a dog whose favourite chew toy had been confiscated, but he graced Tony with a strangely satisfied nod before he rounded on Steve, " _And You-_ Good work on bringing the robot down, but you can't just decapitate things because they target Ironm"

"Actually, I think you'll find I can." Steve replied matter of factly, infusing his voice and body posture with such levels of sheer 'Captain America: National Icon' that even Fury balked at calling him on it.

Nick sighed, slowly getting to his feet as he said, "You lot are going to drive me to an early grave. Hell, Next thing you know, Barton will be burying my body in some vacant lot somewhere."

The Avengers froze.

Tony's gaze snapped up to Fury's, taking in the raised eyebrow and impassive face.

Tony felt a certain degree of vindictive delight and he bit back a grin, his ears pricking up with unbridled glee, _because Fury knew._

Tony was completely and utterly sure, that somehow Fury absolutely knew abo-

 _What._

 _The._

 _Hell._

His stomach suddenly bottomed out and his heart rate jumped with a stuttering jagged agony of shock, because something wasn't right. Eyes suddenly wide enough to truly serve as dinner plates, Tony dragged in a shuddery mouthful of air as his hands flew to his helmet, meeting only hard unyielding metal.

Something, was so, so wrong.

He had to- He needed out, needed to see. To know.

Stumbling to his feet, ignorant of worried calls and hands slipping off cold metal, Tony fled the room, his feet somehow finding their way to the nearest exit deck of the carrier, and then he was in the air, tower-bound.

* * *

"JARVIS prep the Mech bots – I need out, I need- " Tony yelled over the air that whipped past, stinging his face without the faceplate. With no HUD he was flying blind, although the 90ft Tower looming up in his immediate vision was direction enough.

Thankfully, the helmet still allowed him to hear JARVIS, although his voice was certainly more washed out by the open air. The AI answered immediately, "Of course sir. Perhaps you should slow down, your vital signs are less than optimal, I do believe you may be going into shock. "

"I know J! I know- I'm actually pretty sure I have good reason for a little shock, I just can't even, please, just- home." Tony shouted back, his eyes riveted on the landing platform that was mere seconds away.

"Very well sir, although the other Avenger are also enquiring as to your health and I have not lied to them. Captain Rogers's in particular seems quite agitated and will arrive at the tower mere moments after yourself. Doctor Banner is only a few minutes behind." JARVIS informed Tony, his voice easily portraying relief at the approaching assistance.

Tony thumped to the pad in a less than graceful landing, stumbling as he hurried into the nearby elevator, his fingers again prying at the edges of the helmet, and repeatedly prodding at the jammed manual release mechanism.

The door slid open to reveal the workshop and Tony breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar sight calmed him like a balm to raw nerves. If he was in his workshop, he could fix anything.

"Lock it down, J" he ordered, stepping up to the dismantling Mech-bot, and holding as still as his vibrating nerves could as the machine went to work.

"Very well…and the Captain, Sir?" JARVIS asked, as the door flashed lock-down white.

Everything in Tony's mind blanked, the panic buried under a sudden influx of Steve, smiling at him, blue eyes stern as he forced a sandwich on him, strong hands clutching him with such passion, reverence as he scattered lines of charcoal across blank canvass, patience, love, determination and care… "Let him in. I want to let him in."

And then the helmet popped off, and it all came rushing back.

Tony hands came ups to his head, and he threaded trembling fingers into his matted down helmet hair, feeling smooth skin at the side of his face, soft and velvety beneath his fingers and-

"Tony!?" Steve called, his voice a dismaying mix of panic and fear. The door slid open at his first glancing touch, and his lover rushed into the room, his own blue eyes blown wide with concern.

Seeing Tony standing, armour-less, with no gaping wounds, yet still decidedly not alright if the stuttering and trembling over pale skin and wide eyes was anything to go by.

Steve calmed slightly, gentling his fierce anxiety to a slow burning worry as he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I'm okay, we'll, not okay- but, I- This is… I think I've-" Tony tried to explain, reassure and draw assurance at the same time, but couldn't force the words out between lips that wanted to clench into a thin line or tremble alarmingly.

Shaking his head at the absurdity of his inability to say four simple words, Tony lurched his way across the room, and straight into the arms that opened to catch him. Squeezing the long fingers that threaded through his, Tony drew them to his head, leaving them to discover what they would, as he buried his face in Steve chest.

Silence for a second, and then a soft gasp sounded, and Tony cringed, half expecting to be pushed away. Instead, one hand snaked its way down his neck, squeezing gently, before dropping down over bowed shoulders and wrapping about his waist, pulling him in close to the solid support of Steve's torso. The other hand, gentle in its ministrations, explored the cause for the sudden surprise.

Being careful not to touch until they'd made sure it wouldn't hurt Tony, Steve carefully rearranged the unruly waves for a clearer view, gentling his motions as snarled tangles curled around his fingers.

Face still pressed against his chest, Steve could barely make out the words that Tony tried to get out, "I have- I'm-"

Dropping his other arm to join its partner, Steve hugged tightly and said what his lover couldn't, "Cat ears, Tony. You have cat ears."


End file.
